Fel. Hm! The day after to-morrow morning is the performance for the benefit of the sufferers from the fire, and in the afternoon come the living pictures for the benefit of those who suffered from the flood. What is the name of the picture in which you are to pose?

Fel. Domesticity! Aha! A very promising title. You see, my dear, there is no immediate prospect of our having time for that chat of ours. We have now been married four months, and though we have had a great deal of time for others, we have had none at all for ourselves.

Fel. Merely that you and I associate with each other at a distance; that my marital dignity seems to consist in taking you to balls and escorting you home again; in sitting behind you in the box at the theater; in holding your spy-glass at the races, your fan and flowers at dances; that everywhere you are courted and flattered, and that it is my business to stand aside with a vacant face. I am like some silent character on the stage, who never takes part in the action, and people regard me as the model of a silent husband. For, since you consider it ill-bred for me to sit next to you at dinners, or dance with you at balls

Fel. You have gone driving, or are receiving companythe very best people, I grant you. They are all people of merit, at least they all have the merit of being voluble on subjects of which their ignorance is complete. Then, at dinner, we usually have guests again, or we dine out.

Fel. Oh, most charming! The mind of the lady next to me at table must also have been surrounded by a kind of Chinese wall. I made desperate efforts to entertain her, and she only replied, How funny! At last, having exhausted every other conceivable subject, I explained to her the latest method of curing hydrophobia, and she said, How funny!